Poisonous Fancy Jam
by Red Crayon Embassy
Summary: Amanda gets her own back on one of the uppity orphans. Contains culinary sabotage and 1930's gender roles.


_**Disclaimer whatnot: my first rule of rose fanfiction. Ida and Fanny are two characters mentioned in the game that are so minor they are merely names. I don't own rule of rose and I don't take responsibility for creepy Amanda. **_

Ida was always going on about how she was going to be a cook. A world-famous cook, and was going to be in all the papers, wearing pretty dresses telling people how to eat and going to famous parties and getting married to a handsome and rich husband.

Amanda had always thought that Ida was far too ugly to ever get a handsome husband. Nose too big, posture too uptight, like someone had poked her with a stick where you shouldn't poke people with sticks. She knew in her heart of hearts that people would scoff if she said that, say things like 'you can talk Amanda' and 'She's prettier than you Amanda' and words that echoed round and round her head at night because she was the lowest and the ugliest and nobody would ever love her. Ida boasted, talked too much (but never to the children with the highest rank) and went on and on about how perfect her life would be. It distressed Amanda greatly, but she held her tongue and never spoke about that silly girl.

But sometimes she'd try to subtly humiliate her. Misplace things that were hers, accidentally tip her over and snivel to make it seem like pitiful Amanda was sorry. Maybe playing their games would mean she could beat them, rise higher, gain more respect and never have to be poked by rats. She remembered the rats, and not just from the aristocrats, but from even earlier memories of being locked in wardrobes without food, before the other children even appeared in her life.

Ida sometimes talked about the best ways of getting a husband. Not just any of course, but a famous one. Amanda hadn't even bothered to speak. She merely listened to her conversation, as Ida and her best friend Fanny discussed things.

"A good wife means a happy husband, and a happy husband means a happy home." They parroted back to each other, determined to be the very model of perfect womanhood. Amanda slunk away at this, but as she did she took a newspaper resting in the hall. It was probably Martha's, but who would miss it? Who would miss Martha's things? She turned immediately to the woman's section, thinking of valuable words of wisdom that would make her look much more desirable and serve for later.

Scanning the page, the title read 'ten tips for being the perfect wife- how to wow him at home!' all of them seemed to mostly about pleasing other people, but that didn't really bother it's reader.

"He earns a living and so shields you from the world" one entry whispered. Her eyes lit up at that. Yes, she could see it now…safe with a happy husband, and a happy husband means a happy home…nobody would ever be mean to her or scorn her again…She would tend to a loving protector…

"A HAPPY HOME!" came the squeal and shrill voices of the dreaded girls. Amanda dropped the newspaper with a startled squeak. This was met by laughter, the kind she was so _very _much used to.

"Ooh Amanda! What's that?" crooned Ida, poised on her toes. Fanny giggled. Amanda kicked her reading material away under the desk as casually as she could. A newspaper was innocent, but Amanda reading a newspaper was suspicious. Because that meant she had an interest in something, an opportunity far too delicious to pass up.

"It was nothing…" she said, adopting the same whimpering giggling tone as them. "That's a lie, we saw you!" jeered Ida, advancing towards her with her stupid little ballet posture. Fanny snorted, retrieving the paper. When she picked it up, her face a fell a little, disappointed. Her companion reacted the same way, until she started scanning the names of the articles.

"What's this Amanda? Ten tips on being the perfect wife?" she sneered. Her victim didn't move.

_This is normal don't cry don't let them see you sob Amanda_

"Well you're out of luck, because wives are pretty and good at cooking! That's what I'll be, the opposite of you!"

_hit her hit her poison her food _

The two laughed and started walking away, chucking the newspaper back at her.

"Did you know I've been making this delicious new Jam Fanny?"

"Oh really?" said the voices drifting off up the stairs.

There was silence before she started weeping. Harsh snorting sounds whilst her eyes puffed and her nose because runny, looking even more hideous than usual. That girl…not an aristocrat. Not a lower class like her either, or the other new girl rumoured to arrive, but how dare she?

_Your new recipe will be poison…_she sneered to herself. She grunted in laughter at the image, Ida taste-testing her perfect Jam and collapsing with a shriek to the floor…

Her anger overtook her again for a moment, this time coupled with twisted glee. Her little legs started shuffling to the kitchens. She wanted recipes that would have people in awe? She would shock them as much as she could.


End file.
